


Taken

by aravenwood



Series: Febuwhump '19 [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt Rodney, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: The Kayans hated him for who he was – namely, a genius.Written for the Febuwhump prompt "taken"





	Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a trope that I've loved for a while - McKay being hated on a planet because of his intelligence. I've read a few awesome fics with that premise and I thought I would throw my hat in the ring too. I'm thinking of writing a sequel of sorts from McKay's POV for one of the later prompts for the Febuwhump challenge.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It was no secret to anyone that McKay had a tendency to rub people up the wrong way. Anyone who knew him, anyone who spoke to him, anyone who’d even met him knew that well enough. But at least with those people, it was something he did or something he said, not something he was.

But the Kayans hated him for who he was – namely, a genius. They hated his brain, hated his intelligence, hated that it was valued by his team above any physical prowess. They saw intelligence as a barrier, as the thing which would bring down the town they and their ancestors had worked so hard to create. Even McKay, who’d stepped foot there only a few hours ago, was somehow seen as a threat and treated as such. The cowards they were, they’d taken him when John’s back was turned and pretended they knew nothing about it. It was only because the town’s leader, a man who’d allegedly butchered his predecessor in the street, was stupid enough to bring up the apparent dangers of intelligence that John knew the truth.

They’d taken McKay with the intention of “ridding him of the demon in his mind”, as the mayor had so proudly put it. He even said that he was doing them a favour, that it was better this way and that men like McKay shouldn’t be allowed to roam free – like he was another one of the animals they kept penned up on the edge of town.

John didn’t regret punching him in the face, nor did he regret doing it again when the mayor told him exactly where they were keeping McKay. By the time he was finished, the bastard was unconscious at his feet with blood coming from both nostrils and a rapidly swelling right eye.

An asylum, that was what he’d called the small wooden hut in the forest just outside town. He’d spoken of it proudly, said that it was there to “restore those possessed by evil” and protect the town from their malevolent ways. But according to those townspeople who so gladly lead John to the hut, there was no restoration involved – people were simply left in there until they died, then their bodies were tied to rocks and thrown in the lake.

The only relief John could come up with was that Rodney had only been missing for a few hours, there was no way he could have died yet. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.

The hut was even smaller than John had imagined, and the thought of Rodney – majorly claustrophobic Rodney – trapped in there made him sick. He pushed to the front of the small crowd who’d led he and his team there and wrenched out the branch which wedged the door shut, then yanked the door open with such violence that he was half-surprised it stayed connected to the building.

Inside McKay was half-conscious, bleeding from the head and tied up, a leather strap tied around his head and forced between his teeth.  But he was alive. Dazed, half-lidded eyes lifted from the floor to meet John’s, widening a little as they registered who he was seeing. He let out a weak, muffled moan that could have been a name just as easily as anything else.

“Hey bud,” John said softly as he fell to a crouch and pulled the leather strap from McKay’s mouth. “Can you hear me? How’re you feeling?”

McKay moaned once more. His eyelids flickered and his head fell forwards, followed shortly after by the rest of his body. John caught him easily and shifted his hold so McKay’s head was resting against his shoulder. He felt for a pulse, found a strong, steady one and smiled.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured. “Before I burn this place to the ground.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
